


find some solace in that, at least

by callixto



Series: exchange fic [1]
Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Gen, Raijin Days, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-05-30 17:58:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15101999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callixto/pseuds/callixto
Summary: No one is foolish enough to leave Shinra, of all children wanting to be doctors, alone while ill - unfortunately, he really doesn't have too many options for caring friends.





	find some solace in that, at least

**Author's Note:**

  * For [paranoid_fridge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/paranoid_fridge/gifts).



> thank you so much for giving me an excuse to write characters i genuinely care for but had no ideas for, first off -- durarara !! is such a fun series and i enjoyed writing this a lot! it's a bit trope-y but i hope you enjoy; given that i've only read the first series and have yet to obtain a copy of sunset or snake hands, i stuck to raijin and the incident that seems to define their relationship. i hope i managed to use the perspective and style well to show shinra's unfamiliar demeanor / people caring for him ♡ title is from slow motion by pinocchio-p

“Someone like that, isn’t he interesting? If you’re going to abandon me so cruelly I don’t know who else would watch me anyways, Celty, you shouldn’t worry so much!”

Shinra’s voice shook, amusement and distracted fervor both in one. 

Celty pressed the back of her hand to Shinra’s burning forehead, worry visible even on the dark smoke that stood in for her head. Her fingers moved quickly on her keyboard, and she protested, [As if I could not worry! You won’t even tell me what happened that put you in protective custody; I wanted you to make friends, not hide things from me!]

Shinra clasped her wrist in a trembling hand, movements stiff - his smile faltered as he stretched his side, and he huffed out in pain. “It’s okay, really! Every boy has to have his secrets, you can punish me for it if you want? I absolutely can’t tell you this, but if you want to know how much I think of you, or what gets -”

[That’s enough.] She pulled away. [It’s useless trying to take care of you like family, I get it. I seriously can’t avoid leaving for a bit, so I have no choice but to let you be alone with whoever this is.]

_ ‘Ah.. It seems I hurt her feelings.’  _ With the current situation he had no choice but to shrug it off, no matter how loyal he wanted to be. Shinra’s begging would never sway her, and he’d rarely arbeen sick at all. With this infection eating at his wounds, no matter if Izaya had taken the blame for what caused it, he’d take his company above being alone. 

In truth, even a human like Orihara Izaya couldn’t be completely unaffected to see his only friend burning up with fever. The hospital had insisted on something like a restraining order against whoever had harmed him, no matter Shinra’s light-hearted protests - with his father’s studies, it was little trouble to keep him at home to work around it, but it was more dangerous. 

That Izaya came off harmless enough, toed his outside shoes off obediently by the door and dipped his head to Celty -- “Would you be Kishitani-san?” he asked, and smiled up at her. She waved a frantic hand. If possible, she seemed even more alarmed than when dealing with only Shinra. As Shinra wasn’t the type to share personal information unprompted or in any way that made sense, did she really know anything about this boy? His smile seemed suspicious, or maybe she was reaching. Only being around Shinra and the Doctor had almost certainly put her too on guard. There was no logical reason to worry about a 14 year old being a danger, and the Doctor certainly wouldn't have allowed someone unsafe to come into his (full of illegal medicine and worse!) home.

She shoved aside her misgivings to tap out a quick greeting, shaking her head clear. [Ah, no, only a family friend.. You would be the Orihara-kun that agreed to come look after Shinra?] That strange name seemed familiar somehow. Perhaps her memory was lapsing again, or it had been mentioned in passing.

In any case, she was going to be late if she kept this up. The middle-schooler she was so suspicious of gave her a lazy wave as she rushed out the door, and she could just hear his voice raise to call out to Shinra - though not what he said. It might have been better that way.

“Really, wouldn’t the police have something to say if they knew I was here?”

Shinra coughed out a laugh, forcing his voice high to reach the hall. “It’s a good thing they’re not allowed in here then, Orihara-kun! I won’t tell if you don’t, and of course my dearest Celty wouldn’t want to get involved with them. Do you want to spend a night in a cell or something?” He threw a spare pillow weakly at the wall, even that small effort making his arms shake.

“You don’t need to dawdle, anyways; you act like no one’s ever invited you into their house! Unless you're some form of undead, come in here so I don’t have to yell, okay?”

Izaya laughed sourly. He knocked a fist against the door as he came in, casting a side-eyed glance over Shinra’s prone form. “I could be, for all you know. Don’t you think you owe me your soul, or at least your name? I won’t ask for much, so give it up already~!” 

Shinra’s bright smile came off even more manic with a face flushed with heat, he noted. His voice was worn thin and ragged, and his eyes darted from side to side under twitching lashes.

Izaya made himself at home on the bed, bouncing slightly in place, and poked an accusing finger into one of Shinra’s gaunt cheeks. “Is this really just an infection? Even if I’m taking responsibility, it’s too cruel to call me over and give me your fever.” He kicked at the bed frame, heels swinging above the floor.

There was something discomfiting about Shinra’s usual, pointed stare being glazed over with sickness like that. Izaya busied himself looking around the room, twisting a hand in the sweat-soaked sheets under him for something to do - it was less of a surprise than it should be that Shinra didn’t have anything in his room other than piled medical textbooks. A seemingly disembodied hand patted at his leg and he jumped, only for it to move over to tug at his schoolbag.

He tracked it with his eyes back to Shinra, buried under the covers, and let out a sigh.

It took several tries for Shinra to pull it closer, pawing uselessly at the buttons. Izaya set his chin on his hands. “Can I help you with something? There’s nothing of interest to you in there, I can assure you.”  Shinra’s glasses slipped down his face as he struggled with Izaya’s bag, and Izaya snatched them off his nose with a huff. He laid them crooked on his own, arching an eyebrow over foggy lenses at Shinra’s utterly wounded look. 

“How am I supposed to check for weapons if I can’t see? Celty will yell if I’m not careful… since you’re already here, it’s no big deal, right? We’re friends, so I can go through your bag.” Shinra chewed at his lower lip. His focus started to wane as he turned away.

“If I wanted to finish you off, I would have before I confessed.” Izaya narrowed his eyes down at him. His face only softened once Shinra looked away fully. “I’m a bad influence on you, huh? What a shame you don’t have anyone else to take care of you right now.” 

Something like that, normally a threat, couldn’t pierce his cheerful haze. “I’m at your mercy!” Shinra turned this declaration over in his mouth, tasting the shape of the words with an oddly shaped grin. His lips were peeling at the edges, and the blood that ran from one only made him look more ghoulish. When he cast that aside as well, Izaya had long since pulled his schoolbag back and dug into it for a suspicious package.

With a put-upon expression, he pressed a tissue to Shinra’s lips. His other hand busied itself taking out the sort of supplies any sick boy would need, setting them in turn on his mussed sheets. 

“Saying it like that is kind of disgusting, Shinra.”  _ ‘But it’d be boring, taking advantage of you.’ _ Those kind of thoughts were clear on his usually unreadable face to anyone who saw him. His patient, of course, let his eyes close and his head tilt into the gentle touch. Izaya’s hands were cool against his heated skin, and Shinra had already placed some measure of trust in him. For that matter, the supplies he’d brought had a surprisingly childish packaging, crackers shaped like bears and mascot-printed bandages. Even the tissues were labeled as super-soft.

Knowing what his home life was like, one could assume that he had simply brought them from home and a selection he might use to care for his sisters. Or maybe he’d bought them himself, thinking it funny - in the end, it didn’t really matter. 

There wasn’t anything like normal conversation to be made, Shinra simply piping up with disjointed fragments whenever Izaya jostled him enough. If he’d already entrusted revenge to Izaya’s scheming hands, it wasn’t that strange to trust him to care for him while he was wounded, right?

The black-market doctor of the house had long since given Shinra any of the drugs he’d need to fight off the infection. All there was left to wait for his fever to break. 

Izaya’s chattering voice wore him down into sleep soon enough. It might have been a good thing that his standards were so skewed; a normal middle schooler wouldn’t have felt a discussion of how everyone had reacted and become even more scared of Izaya, or how he was planning to ruin that attacker’s life, made a good bedtime story. He kept rambling to himself in a quieter voice once his audience left the waking world.  No one would be home for hours yet. That was how they’d had to resort to him, after all - he seemed not to mind abandoning his own ‘responsibilities’, and no one would trust the younger Kishitani alone in a household full of medication he could self-administer. When their ‘domestic dullahan’ arrived home, smelling of nicotine mixed with her own smoke and decidedly irritated, all that was left was a cheerful, heart-laden note, and tissues strewn as if to cover a massacre.

Celty shut the window with great prejudice, casting a worried glance over at Shinra’s peacefully sleeping form covered in sweat. One last tissue billowed cheerfully over his forehead.

\-- And years later, when she confronted Izaya on the subject, he just smiled that crooked smile. 


End file.
